By dusk, the faint red glow at the edge of the sky had faded, and a bonfire crackled atop the cliff.
Ereshkigal sat cross-legged on a mossy green stone, resting her chin on one hand as she gazed down into the valley. The ground was blanketed in a sea of crystal flowers, their colors shifting gently, flickering in and out of light. Against the dimming twilight, the sight was breathtaking.
Lost in the moment, the goddess closed her eyes and reached out as if to grasp the sea of blossoms. Her expression was soft and content, filled with the sweet serenity of someone holding a world in bloom.
Then, as if remembering herself, she opened her eyes and glanced around furtively.
Realizing there were no prying eyes or mocking spectators in this still and lifeless realm, Ereshkigal let out a quiet sigh of relief, patting her chest as the blush faded from her cheeks.
Yet, hidden in the shadows nearby, she never noticed the mischievous creature silently observing everything.
...
After riding a quiet wave of emotions, her gaze drifted to the clay tablet resting across her lap. A faint smile touched her lips.
She had found it while wandering through the crystal flower clusters—a keepsake unearthed like treasure. On its surface, bold lines etched a simple but vivid scene: her first encounter with the ancient snake, the moment when she, the goddess of the underworld, and the tiny creature had met.
Once, that pitiful little being had collapsed unconscious, curled in her palm—so small, so helpless.
"To celebrate the 200th day since Ere-sama met Samael!"
The uneven line of cuneiform beneath the image made her fingertips pause on the tablet for a long while.
From her shoulder, the ancient snake could faintly sense the tremor that passed through her body.
Yes… more than half a year had passed.
She and this little one had unknowingly shared so much time together.
These memories—unlike the hollow, colorless centuries she had endured—were vivid, full of light and life. Nearly every moment was vibrant, unforgettable.
Just as she began to sink deeper into reminiscence, her fingers brushed across a series of shallow engravings on the tablet's reverse side.
"Hiss..."
The ancient snake had somehow slipped to the front of her, flicking its tongue and blinking up at her. Jolted back to awareness, Ereshkigal turned the tablet over.
There, in clumsy but heartfelt wedge-shaped strokes, was a message:
"Ere-sama really wants to see flowers bloom in the underworld. But I'm still too weak... all I could give her is a field of fake ones…"
"But I won't give up!"
"I still owe Ere-sama a sea of flowers…"
"A real one—one that truly blooms in the underworld!"
"One day, I'll make this place overflow with the world's beauty!"
"I promise... I'll make it happen!"
As her gaze moved to the lower right corner of the tablet, Ereshkigal's eyes stopped on the closing line:
"This is an IOU — Samael."
Below the signature, a simple doodle captured the silhouette of a little snake, drawn with just enough flourish to carry a sense of bashful sincerity. It almost looked embarrassed. Maybe even a little shy.
"I've always wanted to give Ere-sama a gift to thank you for your kindness."
"But I can't make the underworld bloom—yet I promise you this: one day I'll give you a sea of flowers! A sea of flowers that's truly yours!"
The ancient snake's tail twitched nervously as it hesitated over the clay tablet. Still, the tone behind those words was unwavering.
"I…"
Before the little one could continue, a pair of soft hands scooped it up into her palm. Golden hair fluttered, and pink lips pressed gently to its forehead, cool like pieces of jelly.
At the same time, the goddess's presence washed over him, and the snake's scales stiffened instinctively. Beneath Ere-sama's calm exterior, he sensed a fiery, volcanic passion.
"No! Samael…"
"This… is the best gift I've ever received since I was born!"
"The only one!"
"Thank you…"
Ereshkigal cradled the small creature to her chest, murmuring in gratitude, her eyes alight with warmth.
"Do you like the crystal flowers?"
"I love them! I really do! They don't wither or decay—they can stay with me forever!"
"Then… can we cancel the IOU?"
The snake glanced toward the contract tablet at Ere-sama's side, asking carefully. Planting flowers in the underworld seemed nearly impossible…
"Slap!"
Her hand slapped away the tail curling toward the tablet.
"No!"
"Don't you know? Once you make a promise to a god… you can't go back!"
Although her words seemed stern, her eyes shone with mischief as she rubbed his head, laying down the divine rule in measured tones.
"Ah! That's so unfair! It's too hard…"
The snake writhed in her grasp, scrawling on the tablet with dramatic flair—an oppressed figure lamenting the cruelty of divine authority. Pitiful, weak, helpless…
"The land of the underworld is barren, full of death energy. What if I really can't grow flowers?"
"Then stay by my side forever!"
Ereshkigal blurted this out, but then her gaze flicked to the snake's tilted head, and she composed herself.
"No—what I mean is, I'll supervise you until you grow these flowers…"
"You promised—and promises must be kept!"
She lifted the glum little snake, caressing its smooth, cool scales with obvious delight. She even scratched its chin with her fingernail, teasing it for a reaction.
Eventually, under this divine teasing, the poor little snake gave in, face baleful and defeated.
"Okay, Ere-sama… I won't change my mind…"
"Good!"
"Then… could you maybe not lock up those human souls in the Spear Cages all the time? They helped a lot too—I want to repay them, just like I'm repaying you."
His second request made Ereshkigal pause. Finally, she nodded slightly.
"Very well. In future, I'll expand parts of the Spear-Cages barriers so they can move around more."
"But I can't fully lift restrictions and set them all free."
Ian blinked in confusion.
"Why? This is the underworld—are you afraid they'll escape?"
"It's not that…"
Ereshkigal hesitated. She glanced at the distant Spear-Cage, where dozens of soul-fires flickered, and bit her lip gently.
"Spear-Cages resist death-energy corrosion to the greatest extent possible. They slow the decay and erosion of these souls."
"Not only do human bodies have lifespans—souls do too."
Ian fell silent, thoughts in tumult. In some ways, Ereshkigal was protecting these souls…but at the same time, this divine decree felt like a kind of oppression.
Life in the Spear-Cage was hard. With the underworld's gloom and weight, weak-willed souls could easily go mad.
Ian couldn't judge if this was protection or imprisonment.
Ultimately, his plea for the human souls fell silent as he conceded.
"Can't the cages at least be relaxed a bit more?"
Ereshkigal's smile vanished. She shook her head firmly.
"A third storm is crossing Uruk—it threatens everything. The underworld must remain stable!"
"And—I don't want these souls to perish because of my negligence."
"Souls without bodies or hosts, drifting in the underworld… that's too dangerous."
The ancient snake lowered its head, dejected.
Ereshkigal's heart ached. After a hesitation, she made a difficult decision.
"Actually… it is possible to open the Spear-Cages."
"But only after this third storm sweeping Uruk has passed."
"This crisis… for the people of Mesopotamia, death might actually bring them relief."
At least, in my hands, they still have a chance…
Ereshkigal whispered this to herself, barely audible.
When she looked up, the tiny snake stood before her, tablet raised in front of her face, scales firm and expression resolute.
"You said it—write it down!"
"...Huh?"
Ereshkigal chuckled helplessly, unsure whether to laugh or cry.